The Northern Kingdom
by xGhostReaderx
Summary: War-hero Jon Snow has returned to his home of Winterfell and has declared the North an independent kingdom and once again rules it as the King in the North! But now Jon Snow must face a new challenge as King - marriage! Who will he choose as his bride and how will Jon face these new problems that begin to plague the new kingdom?
1. Synopsis

**THE NORTHERN KINGDOM**

_After the sudden and unexplained death of Queen Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name - Young Brandon Stark of House Stark has been elected for the first time in history as the new Lord of the Six Kingdoms. At the same time, war-hero Jon Snow has returned to his home of Winterfell and has declared the North an independent kingdom and once again rules it as the King in the North! But now Jon Snow must face a new challenge as King - marriage! Who will he choose as his bride and how will Jon face these new problems that begin to plague the new kingdom?_

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**Hello everyone! Thank you for choosing this story to read! So one thing you should all know before we get into the story: Jon did ****NOT**** kill Daenerys, in fact no one knows who killed her. But they will be revealed in the story ;). **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story and Jon's new wife too.**

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**Peace & Love**

**xGhostReaderx**


	2. Chapter 1 - The Dornish Princess

**1\. The Dornish Princess**

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It had been fourteen days since the coronation of King Brandon Stark, First of His Name. Everyone in the newly built King's Landing rejoiced for his Majesty. Never in so many years had the people of Westeros seen such a kind, thoughtful, level-headed ruler. The last person who could have possibly topped Bran was probably Tommen, but his life had ended before his reign could truly began. But it wasn't just Bran's kindness and sensibility that made Westeros feel reborn. It was also because this was the first time in the history of Westeros that a ruler was elected! Such ideas were laughed at before King Bran! But now, the elections of rulers and new house members were a part of Westerosi culture now. And the people enjoyed it! Why? Because it made life that much better knowing that the people's opinions were being recognized and voiced by the house representatives.

But King Bran wasn't the only ruler to be elected into power. At the same time in the far North was a newly independent kingdom itself! After having served under many tyrannical rulers for so many years, the North had finally made the decision that they would no longer lived under foreigner rule. And though King Bran was no foreigner to the North as he was born and raised in the capital of Winterfell - still the North needed a ruler of their own. Someone they knew well and who would always hold their best interests at heart and protect the North from anybody who dared to overthrow them again. The scars that the Boltons had left had tarnished the hope and trust of many Northmen and the tyrannical rule of Queen Daenerys Targaryen had cemented the belief that _nobody _was fit to rule the North - except for one person.

The late Ned Stark's bastard - Jon Snow.

At one point he was the King of the North before he bent the knee to Queen Daenerys and … well you know the rest. But things were different now. With Bran ruling the Six Kingdoms and Jon Snow controlling the North - the Northmen felt safe again. And so did all of Westeros.

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**WINTERFELL**

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"Jon? Jon, where are you?"

The current Lady of Winterfell curiously walked down the long halls within the castle in search of her brother. Of course by now she knew Jon was not her brother by any means and was actually her cousin but it was habitual for her to think and call him 'brother'. And Jon didn't even try to correct her because it was just as hard for him to refer to her as his cousin instead of his sister.

"I'm here, Sansa," the King of the North called from his study. It felt kind of weird for Jon to be in his father's old study. Everything in there was pretty much the same. The only difference was that it was no longer Ned's cloak that hung on the wooden chair behind his desk, but Jon Snow's.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about this situation."

"What situation?"

"At the moment, we have four empty lands. The Karhold, the Dreadfort, Last Hearth and Bear Island. What is your plan?"

"Plan?"

"Yes! You can't just leave those lands to waste away! The Great War is _over_, Jon. The White Walkers-"

"Yes, Sansa. I know. I was there." said a sarcastic Jon. Sansa narrowed her eyes.

"I'm serious, Jon. We must find some way to occupy those lands or they will go to waste for no reason at all."

"Well you are Lady of Winterfell and you are allowed to make decisions for the North as well. You come up with a plan."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. If this is so pressing for you, then you should be the one to come up with a beneficial solution."

Sansa huffed. A part of her was excited that she would get the chance to decide the course of action for a part of the North but the other part of her mind was slightly annoyed that Jon was refusing to do anything about it. Obviously he viewed it as an insignificant matter - at the moment - and didn't have time to be concerned with empty lands when the North has just because a new independent kingdom. No doubt there was going to be houses who would try to challenge the strength and unity of the North and he had to be prepared should something erupt.

"You should take this more seriously, Jon."

The King of the North sighed. "Take what more seriously?"

"The North!"

"I _am_ taking care of the North, Sansa Stark. And as much as you'd like for me to spend my days decorating four abandoned castles, there are more pressing matters at hand."

"Like what, Jon Snow?" Sansa retorted. "What could possibly-"

"My Lord!" said Maester Wolkan entering the study. "A raven came! From the new prince of House Martell." He said handing over the small wrapped parchment. Inside was small and simple message addressed directly to the King of the North that read,

_My Lord Snow,_

_ I write to you now as Prince Jarian, the current Lord of House Martell. I offer you my congratulations on your recent coronation. It has come to my attention that for many years, the island of Dorne and the North have yet to formally acquaint themselves. I, Prince Jarian of House Martell, offer an alliance between our kingdoms. A marriage between the King in the North and my sister Nyla of House Martell. I invite you to come to Dorne and formally meet your bride. I do hope you accept. _

_Gods Willing._

"Well," said Sansa impatiently. "What does it say?"

"Prince Jarian of House Martell wants an alliance with the North."

"What? Why?"

"He thinks that the North and Dorne should better acquaint themselves seeing as both nations have powerful warriors."

Snsa shook her head vehemently. "You can't accept this, Jon."

"My lady?" said Maester Wolkan with questioning eyes.

"He _can't_! The last time you went to create an alliance, you came back no longer King in the North with a Queen, two dragons and an army of foreigners. The North will not accept this!"

"This is different."

"Explain to me how this is _any_ different then Daenerys?" A nerve was struck when she uttered her name.

Daenerys.

Dany.

His Dany.

Oh, he loved her so much. Maybe just as much as Ygritte or maybe even more! And what a toll her assassination took on him. It crippled him. Broke him for a while. But in his heart, he knew that her death was the only way to a peaceful future for Westeros. Though her intentions in the beginning were very noble and good, by the end of it all Daenerys had very well become the very thing she swore she would never be. In many ways, she equated herself to being as fearful and as powerful as the Gods themselves! That was when Jon knew that she had finally succumbed to the Targaryen Curse. And as much as he wanted to tell himself that she would have been a wonderful Queen, his heart knew otherwise. She would've been exactly what everyone predicted.

A tyrant.

"Sansa … I understand your worry. You, Bran, Arya and I know better than anyone that the North has been through so much over the past years. I know you don't want another foreigner coming into our lands and making decisions for the North." He said gently and held his sister's hands. "But we _need _to do this."

"Give me one damn good reason why."

"Dorne can supply us with men."

"We have enough men! We have the Northmen, the Knights of the Vale, the Freefolk-"

"The Freefolk no longer live here in Winterfell. They've gone up north. To their homes and I doubt they will be giving us any more of their men unless its under extreme circumstances."

"Tormund will always fight for you." She countered.

"As I will do for him. But Tormund _is_. _not_. _here_. All we have is the Northmen and the Knights of the Vale which still doesn't amount to what we once had. The Great War took out nearly half of our army."

"And you think a bunch of Dornish men will come sailing to the fucking cold North ally with you?" She spat angrily. Both Maester Wolkan and Jon were surprised. Sansa was never one to curse. Never. And to hear those words come from her kind lips was … frightening. Jon sighed and then leaned forward, pressing a soft but firm kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, sister. But I'm going to Dorne."

"Jon-"

"Sansa we are done discussing this topic." He said abruptly and pulled away from her grasp. "Now please leave me with Maester Wolkan."

The fiery red-head was fuming. She didn't even bother to nod, bow or even say, 'As you wish my Lord.' All Sansa Stark uttered was, "The North is going to die under your rule," venomously and then stormed out of the study. Jon sighed and rubbed his head while Maester Wolkan closed the door.

"She is just angry, my Lord. Give her time to cool down." Maester Wolkan advised. "But I do understand both of your perspectives."

"Do you?"

"Yes, my King. You are correct. We need an alliance. And the Dornish warriors are the North's best chance of staying an independent kingdom should some foreign ruler attempt to invade us. But I do understand Lady Sansa's worry. The Northmen will not take well to _another_ foreign Queen - let alone a Dornish one. Dorne is a hot island that opposes the bitter cold of the North. It would be as if you are joining-"

"Please, don't. Don't say it." Jon said weakly. He knew the words even before Maester Wolkan uttered them. Fire and Ice. Those were once the same words that the Red Witch had said about Daenerys and Jon. And well … that didn't work out.

"My apologies, My Lord. But I really do think that a trip to Dorne would be the best decision. I would write to Prince Jarian and let him know of your acceptance right away." And with one more solemn sigh, the King of the North nodded, taking a piece of parchment from his table, picked up his quill pen and began to write.

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**DORNE**

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Seven days after receiving Prince Jarian's note, Jon Snow held a small council meeting alerting the Northmen of his decision to marry a Dornish princess. And just as Sansa had warned him, the Northmen were not pleased with his decision. To the majority of them, they believed that it was the Queen Daenerys alliance all over again and even though Daenerys had been nothing but kind and accommodating to the Northmen, she was still a foreigner. Someone they could not trust. And now here he was again, sailing to some foreign island in hopes of creating peace and trust.

'_I can't wait to see this new foreign bitch he's bringing', _ one Northmen said.

'_Aye. I've heard Dornish girls have the best cunts.' _said another. And on and on the gossip and jokes went. But Jon didn't bother to stop it. This is how men in general were about foreign women and he had to give them their freedom to say what they want … until the girl becomes his wife.

On the journey to Dorne, Jon was accompanied by Maester Wolkan and Ser Agron Cryphus - a newly appointed knight who now stood as leader of his house. House Cryphus was not one of the old noble houses but in this new era of Westerosi rule, King Bran had made it a rule that any house seeking to establish themselves needed to be verified and appointed by that nation's dominant house. And taking into consideration of the unoccupied castle in Karhold, Jon appointed the new house and gave them the land. The boat finally docked at the Dornish port after eight days of sailing. Immediately, Jon could feel the temperature change and felt uncomfortable. His usual fur cloak Sansa had gifted him as the new king was now making him hot and sweaty and it didn't help that the vest, boots, and thick trousers he wore underneath were increasing the heat and sweat that was now coating his entire body. Maester Wolkan and Ser Agron felt the exact same way.

"Welcome," a female Dornish servant greeted the three men at the port. She was dressed in typical Dornish attire for women. Silk wrappings that covered her swelling breasts and womanhood, but it left room to show off her tanned curvy legs, slender arms and flat stomach.

"Prince Jarian and Princess Nyla of House Martell are waiting for you in the Water Gardens." The servant said with a polite smile and lead the guests to the most famous and esteemed place in all of Dorne. Though the trip was not long, riding on horseback was much faster than walking and was much appreciated by all three Northmen. When they arrived at the front, Jon was captivated by the gorgeous exterior and interior of the gardens. Water fountains flowing in different sections, luscious trees filled with different kind of fruit hung from above and flowers that seemed to bloom on every corner of the gravel pathways. It was safe to say that the legends of Dorne's exotic beauty were true and Jon could only hope that the same applied to his bride-to-be. They dismounted their horses and walked inside the immaculate building and were followed by the curious and untrustworthy eyes of the servants all around them, but none of the Northmen took it personally. Dorne had already suffered their fair share of brutality at the hands of foreigners - the Lannisters - just as the Boltons had done to Winterfell. It was only natural for them to feel this way.

In the huge adorned lounge area of the building were seven guards dressed in their Dornish uniforms and in the center sitting on two long sofas was a young man and woman waiting patiently. Both stood up at the sight of their guests and slowly strode over to greet them formally.

"Ahh, the King of the North has finally arrived," said the young prince. "It is a great honor to meet you, Jon Snow."

"Likewise, Prince Jarian." smiled the Northman whose eyes quickly diverted between both brother and sister to which the Dornish prince caught notice of.

"Ah yes, let me introduce you to your future bride. Should you accept that is. May I present Dorne's newest princess: Nyla Sand of House Martell."

'_Sand? She's … a bastard?' _Jon thought.

The princess briefly glanced at the King of the North and a shy blush graced her cheeks when they made eye contact. Jon was curious about her. He gently took hold of her hand in his gloved one and pressed a warm kiss to her hand but the princess shivered in response.

"You are cold." She said shyly, her eyes still focusing at her feet. The Northman chuckled under his breath at her words. He actually felt like a thousand degrees under his cloak!

"And you are very warm, princess." His voice was raspy and sounded like someone who has been struggling with a cold for months. It was nothing like the smooth honey voices that made the Dornish men that much more desirable. But somehow … Nyla liked his voice.

"Please," Prince Jarian said suddenly. "Allow my servants to show you all to your quarters. A fresh pair of clothes has been provided for all of you to help you adjust with our hot weather for the next two days. We will dine at sunset here on the veranda followed by a small show by our dancers - a tradition here in Dorne. My Lord Snow, please make yourselves at home. My sister and I will be around to help you get situated swiftly." The prince nodded and took his leave with his sister following behind.

"Follow me, please." The female servant said again and directed the Northmen to their rooms. If there was any word to describe the decor of their rooms: it would be luxurious. A big king-sized bed for two, two futons with a small tables in the center, a wine table off to the side, fancy candles that gave off the delicious scent of sandalwood and jasmine and a perfect view of the gardens from the balcony - everything was exotic and beautiful. Sansa would have probably loved this. Then again, it might remind her too much of all those bad memories at Kings' Landing.

The servant closed his door and left the King in the North all by himself to get dressed and prepared for dinner soon. Quickly, he discarded his cloak, vest and everything else that made him feel caged and suppressed. The cool breeze of the Dornish winds passed through his balcony and swirled into his room, cooling down his hot and sweaty naked body but it didn't stop the smell of sour onions that stuck to his armpits and chest. Luckily, the room already had a small corridor to the side that held a large metal basin, a large metal bowl and a pipe that supplied the water to have a nice warm bath which was very much needed for the young king. After drawing his bath, Jon released his curly hair from the constraints of the small metal clasp and sank his body into the water depths of water. He couldn't remember the last time he had a long soak in a bath. It must have been ages ago because his stiff bones and sore muscles were clearly enjoying this bath way more than he anticipated. A soft two knocks were heard at his door and with closed eyes, Jon allowed the person to enter not thinking that it was anyone other than his men.

"Oh Gods!" A soft feminine voice said shocked. The King of the North's eyes flew open and was startled to see the princess standing at his door with wide eyes and a huge blush tainting her tanned cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, my Lord!" She squeaked and tried to leave.

"No! Wait!" He said suddenly for reasons even he couldn't explain but they worked. Nyla paused and looked down again, not wanting Jon to see her embarrassed face.

"Please come in, I was just finishing up. Umm… actually can you wait outside for a moment?" He said bashfully. "Please don't go." He said once again. The princess only nodded and closed his door gently waiting for the young man to give her the signal to return. She didn't know why she felt the urge to visit this foreign man. He was an outsider and a very pale one at that! And yet he was to be her husband - well, if he agreed to it. To be honest, she wasn't looking forward to a marriage. Mostly because she didn't want to leave the wonderful warm weather of Dorne for the bitter cold of the North, but Jarian needed the North. After their victory in the Great War, the North was no longer seen as an icy hell but a kingdom worthy to be allied with any of the six kingdoms. And the granting of independence by King Bran and Jon Snow was just the icing on the cake that Jarian needed to make the move.

"Enter," Jon said as softly as he could. And with a flutter in her heart, Nyla re-opened his door and was completely taken away by the Northman's appearance. No longer was he dressed in his all black clothing that covered everything masculine about him. Now, he was dressed in a loose white shirt that showed off the hidden biceps that bulged underneath and had a deep low cut in the middle that showed off the small amount of chest hair sprouting. He kept his black pants and boots on and for some reason it just looked … perfect. His hair was still wet and held small droplets of water that clung for dear onto those strands and when he slicked it back - oh Gods. Nyla thought she would faint at his beauty.

Jon was just as taken away with the Dornish woman just as she was with him.

Her skin was a perfect clear and smooth tan color followed by her full red stained lips, eyes as blue as the water and her hair was a sleek jet black with small unmistakable streaks of red hidden in them that was secured by a golden clasp into a neat ponytail that curled all the way to the middle of her back. Her dress was a simple but elegant gold with two straps hanging around her neck and covered her small and perky breasts and cascaded down her curvy hips covering her smooth slender legs. She wore simple gold sandals and a gold pendant with some bangles to finish the outfit. As a whole, she was absolutely breathtaking and Jon couldn't believe that this gorgeous girl would possibly be his wife.

"Please," he croaked and cleared his throat - not realizing how hoarse he sounded. "Come."

The princess felt her cheeks rise with heat again and slowly walked to where the famed Jon Snow stood. She was shorter than him. Possibly by a foot. But Jon didn't care if she was as tall as the pillars, she was just beautiful and graceful regardless of height. He took her soft and warm hand in his, letting his thumb graze over her smooth flesh and she shivered at the roughness of his calloused fingers.

"Am I still too cold?" He whispered with a raspy voice.

"No," she breathed and finally met his eyes.

"No, you are very warm. Jon Snow." The young man smiled a little and felt her soft fingers curl through his and grasp his hand tightly which sent a small shiver down his spine.

"You look lovely, princess."

"Nyla. Not princess. Nyla." she corrected with her smooth Dornish accent.

"My apologies. Nyla."

"Thank you. And ... you look very Dornish, Jon Snow." She smiled shyly. "Well - except for the pants and you have no Dornish cloak."

"I think I'll be good without cloaks for a good while." The Dornish princess giggled lightly and Jon smirked squeezing her small hand his large one. His attention then centered on the fact that she was still refusing to make eye contact with him. So he had to ask.

"Is it customary for Dornish women not to look their suitors in the eyes?" He asked curiously. The Dornish princess blushed even harder and tried to pull away a little but the Northman held onto her hand gently but firmly.

"Have I offended you?"

"No …," she squeaked. "I … I just … I am nervous."

The feelings were definitely mutual. Jon was scared out of his mind. Not because he didn't like her but because he was just as new to this as she was. The last time he went to see a woman was when he journeyed to Dragonstone to meet Daenerys and even that mission wasn't for marriage but an alliance for more men to fight in the Great War. This was a whole new territory the King of the North was facing and he was terrified that he would fuck it up somehow.

"You're not alone," Jon said and continued to rub her knuckles with his thumb. He then made a bold move and shakily used his other hand and cupped her chin, lifting her blue eyes up to meet his grey ones. A small gasp escaped the princess and she bit her lower lip nervously and searched his eyes, hoping she wouldn't find a sign that would tell her he disliked her and to her happiness, she didn't.

"Do you ... like me … Jon Snow?" She asked timidly. Jon searched her anxious eyes and subconsciously rubbed her jawline while breathing in her natural scent. It was delicious. She smelled just like the candles but with a hint of gardenia as well and that alone alerted the primal part of his mind with the idea of running his tongue over her soft skin.

_Dammit! Easy! _He shouted to himself trying to reign in his urges. Luckily she didn't sense anything and just stood there awaiting his answer.

"You are very lovely, Nyla." He said and continued rubbing her jaw. "But I want to get to know you a little more. I … I want to make sure that we are _both_ content with each other because this… this is marriage. And if I'm going to be your husband, I want us both to be pleased and hopefully … happy one day. So for right now… I can't give you a real answer." He said rather sadly. And though it wasn't the answer she was expecting, it was the answer she needed. His words made Nyla's heart swell with happiness. For too many years, she had been looked at as a piece of meat. An exotic fuck for men. And now, for the first time ever, here was a man who looked at her … like a person. He wanted her to be happy. To be content with this arrangement. She couldn't remember the last time someone had asked her what she wanted.

"Did I offend you?" He asked carefully again and slowly removed his hand from her chin. But her beautiful white smile said otherwise.

"No, Jon Snow." She whispered, cupping his rough bearded cheeks in her hands. "No you did not." And then without warning, the Dornish princess closed her eyes and planted a warm kiss to the Northman's lips.

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**Peace & Love**

**xGhostReaderx**


	3. Chapter 2 - A Cause For Celebration

**2\. A Cause For Celebration**

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He was shocked. Though completely floored or flabbergasted would probably be the more appropriate word in this situation. Was he expecting this exotic beauty to kiss him so boldly? Absolutely not! But that is what happened. And for a second, he couldn't pull away. Not because she wouldn't let him but because some part of him didn't want to pull away.

He closed his eyes briefly and lightly held her waist whilst she kissed him. Her lips were so soft. Like the finest silk cushions! And they were gentle. Careful to not put an overwhelming amount of passion in this kiss, but gentle enough to where he could feel the contentment and gratefulness that swelled within her.

She pulled away slowly, licking her painted red lips and searched his beautiful grey again hoping to see that he was okay with this sudden kiss. His breathless sigh and intent look of content provided her answer.

"I like this," whispered Nyla. She rubbed her fingers against the small patch of hair that aligned with his beard on his cheeks. "You don't look like a Northman. You look Dornish with it."

"Do I?" He chuckled. His hands were still centered on her petite waist while his eyes and thoughts remained on his beautiful potential bride whose face had now become full of worry.

"I apologize for the kiss." She said slowly. "That was … very rash."

"It was," He agreed and then gently pulled her a little closer against his lean body.

"But I liked it." He smiled.

The door then suddenly opened and both parties - no longer worried about their appearance together - turned and saw Prince Jarian and Maester Wolkan look onwards with surprised expressions. Wolkan was the most surprised of the two - however. Although he hadn't served under Jon for an extensive amount of time like Maester Luwin, he already knew certain particular details about the young man. The first one being that he wasn't a womanizer. When it came to women, Jon was very respectful and always tried to give them their space. He was never one to touch a woman without her consent nor was he a man who 'put on the charm' as some would say because … he didn't have one, knowingly that is. A lot of women adored Jon and liked him, but he was always distant and kept them afar which was mostly due to his bastard lineage which until recent events was actually a lie.

And now - to see him staring into this girl's eyes with hands on her waist, holding her almost protectively from their view - it was remarkable!

"Oh thank the Old Gods and the New!" Prince Jarian sighed with relief. "I was so worried that you two did not approve of each other."

"And on that wonderful note, perhaps we should all head to the dining room for supper?" said Maester Wolkan.

"Indeed." said Prince Jarian and lead the way with Maester Wolkan behind. Jon looked back at Nyla and gave her waist a small tender squeeze that shot lightning bolts of excitement and pleasure - not sexual ones - through her body. The King in the North then rearranged his body posture and extended an arm for Nyla to take which she did graciously. The two of them walked down the halls to the dining room where the three men and guards were already seated along with five Dornish women, two Dornish men and three dancers. The women looked up and scowled lightly at the entrance of Jon Snow and Princess Nyla. The two men weren't even intimidated by Jon because to him he was just another white boy looking for a brown girl to fuck.

"Jon Snow, Maester Wolkan, and Ser Agron; I would like to introduce you all to the other princes and princesses of Dorne." Jarian said politely. His hand gestures began from the far left.

"My sisters: Sarella, Elia, Obella, Dorea and Loreza of House Martell. We are Prince Oberyn's last remaining children."

"I truly didn't know Prince Oberyn had a son," said Ser Agron.

"No one did," smiled Prince Jarian. "I ran away from Dorne when I was very young. I was … a rebellious child. Everyone thought me dead for years and I lived in peace on Braavos until … word spread of my father's death. Along with my uncle, cousin and sisters. I came back to Dorne in secret and waited until my father's paramour Ellaria Sand was taken by Queen Cersei to silently rebuild what was lost in Dorne. I have never left again." He said and then gestured to the two boys. "These are Palen and Gravis Sand of House Martell. They are distant cousins but they family nonetheless."

"A pleasure to meet all of you." Jon said with a nod.

The food arrived quickly and was placed on the dining table for everyone to view. Chopped and spiced mutton stew, fresh homemade bread, dried and spiced beef jerky, brown rice, fish that was seemingly sautéed in a delicious spicy sauce, a bowl of dates and grapes, Dornish wine and a pitcher of ale just for the Northmen.

"No pork?" Ser Agron asked and all the siblings - albeit Jarian and Nyla - looked at him like he was an utter moron.

"No," Jarian chuckled. "My family and I do not eat pork. But I assure you the mutton is very delicious." The food was extremely different from Winterfell. Up in the north, food is very basic mostly because they hunt whatever animal they can get in the cold - which is mostly bear, some elks, maybe some deer and if they didn't die and rot before they arrived on the carts - chickens. But this … this was extravagant! The spices were a little overwhelming to the simplistic Northman who was starting to realize just how different him and Nyla's lives were. He could only imagine her growing up with a set of taste, a set climate and a set routine to everything that happens in Dorne and now she was being asked to leave this beautiful island behind to freeze her ass off for an alliance? No, she would never say yes to him.

The Dornish Princess looked at Jon curiously seeing that he wasn't eating but just staring off into space. Carefully, she touched his knee and squeezed it a little which caught the attention of two of her sisters.

"Why don't you try this?" She offered a smile and reached over to make a small bowl of stew for him. The Northman reached to eat for himself but the Dornish Princess suddenly pulled back and smiled with a playful glint in her eye. Jon Snow returned her lovely smile with a small one of his own and waited patiently for Nyla to bring the spoon of stew to his lips and swallow it down. It was spicy, to say the least, but the flavors were incredible! Everything seemed to pop in his mouth and he licked his lips hungrily for more. Nyla giggled under her breath and continued to feed her husband-to-be while everyone just watched in silence. After the main course, the dancers began their belly-dancing routine and entertained everyone until dessert came around: honey cakes. A delicacy in Dorne and a sweet that Jon could only remember having once in his lifetime.

Nyla broke off a piece of the honey cake and fed it to Jon who made eye contact with her the whole time she served him. There was no sexual appeal and desire that he saw in her eyes, but … contentment. Everything about dinner was full of content for Jon and Nyla. He did feel a little awkward about having Nyla feed him the entire night, but after seeing the happiness in her eyes he knew that it wasn't out of duty. She was a helpful person and enjoyed doing things for other people and it was that kind of innocence that made Jon realize that she was one of a kind and … that she was most likely a maiden too. Of course, he had already heard rumors of how slutty and horny Dornish women were but Nyla was the complete opposite. Not once did she give off a sexual vibe to him or even try to make something so innocent and sweet like feeding him a sexual act.

No … she was special. And Jon wanted to make sure that no man or woman would take away what made her so special.

* * *

After dinner, the two potentials walked through the gardens admiring the beautiful moonlight that illuminated the fields. The fire lights flowed down the rocky trails and weaves in timing with the pathway that brought them to a small modest gazebo decorated in pink roses and vines. The inside was lit with two fire lights and a small hanging bench in the center.

"This is where new husbands and wives come after the ceremony." Nyla said softly. Her fingers traced the old wood designating of the bench and the smoothness of the rose petals. Jon took a seat on the bench and waited for Nyla to sit down as well before he used his feet to rock them gently back and forth.

"I used to sit on this bench a lot when I was little," said Nyla dreamily reminiscing about her past. "My father would tell me that one day I would grow up and marry a handsome man with the strength of a stallion, the nobility of a lion and the quiet nature … of a wolf." She smiled to herself and leaned against Jon's arm.

"Did you ever have doubts … about meeting this mystery man?" He asked, changing the position of his arm and wrapping it around Nyla's shoulders. She cuddled deeper against the Northman's side and closed her eyes allowing the sway of the bench to calm her mind.

"No … I trusted my father. He was always right. About everything. I just …"

"What?"

"I just … I just never thought that … he would be from … the North."

Jon smirked to himself. "Aye. I never thought I would be marrying a Dornish girl." He said and quickly, Nyla's head popped up at his words, catching his confession.

"You … you decided?"

"I did."

"And?" She pressed leaning in closer. Jon reciprocated her actions and moved closer to where their noses were almost touching.

"And I will be your husband. Forever … until we part." His voice was soft and raspy again, just the way Nyla liked it and once again, thinking on instinct, Nyla took hold of the Northman's face, tilted her head a little, closed her eyes and captured his lips in a slow kiss.

It wasn't meant to be sensual nor was it supposed to invoke any type of feelings aside from what they were already feeling. Content. They were content with each other and someday they knew they would fall in love but being content was enough for now. Nyla pulled away first to take a breath. She quite literally forgot to breathe when she kissed him and felt like her lungs would collapse. But Jon - not wanting to end this blissful feeling of content and perfection - cupped her chin again and pulled her lips back to his own. His mustache and beard scraped against her delicate skin and warmed her limbs like a dull fire slowly coming back to life. One of her hands rested against his muscled chest as if to brace herself from the overwhelming peacefulness of this sweet kiss and Jon held onto that hand tightly. He then pulled away and placed three delicate kisses upon his bride. One on her forehead and the other two on both of her cheeks.

"I … I don't normally kiss women on the first meeting … especially like this."

"I don't kiss men either, Jon Snow. But … I had to. Something was … pulling me … to kiss you."

"I know," he said breathlessly. "I felt it too."

The moment … was unexplainable. Neither party could comprehend the intense feeling of bliss that had just passed through but somehow … they were connected. A strange occasion it was for them. As both parties had never had such intimate moments like this so casually and quickly upon meeting each other. Jon was quick to blame his rash actions on the need for Dorne's alliance but there was no truth to that. The truth was … she was intriguing to him and she was so peaceful. Much different from the strong and fiery women he was so used to encountering but somehow he knew that Nyla's sweetness wasn't the only side of her and he would soon get to know everything about her in due time … as his wife.

"Jon?"

"Hmm?"

"Can … can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Umm …," she began nervously and bit her lower lip once again. "Would it be okay … if we could have … maybe … two weddings?"

'_Well that's new_', he thought.

"One here and one in Winterfell?"

"Yes … if that's okay?" The King of the North squeezed her hand gently again.

"Nyla … look at me," he said and met her sparkling blue eyes.

"I will _always _do whatever I can … to keep you happy. So … don't be afraid to ask me anything. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Yes … my soon husband." She nodded and smiled, pressing her face against his beating chest.

* * *

The next morning, Prince Jarian was elated!

The news of Jon Snow's acceptance of Nyla was all that he needed to hear and think about today. Jon had also disclosed that Nyla preferred to have two weddings instead of just a cold one in Winterfell. Prince Jarian was a little surprised about this piece of information. Dorne wasn't known for having a lot of weddings because most women and men chose to have paramours. Life partners instead of husbands and wives. Although the nation did have an old marriage ritual, it had been years since they had done a Dornish marriage ceremony. And with only one day left for the Northmen, everyone had to act fast!

The ceremony would officially take place tomorrow at high noon while today would be full of customary engagement performances and Dornish extravagance lead by Prince Jarian and his siblings. The first order of business was to put Jon and Nyla through the pre-marriage rituals. One of them was the cleansing ritual. A small bath drawn for both of them would be filled with rose water - the finest and most potent medicine - to seep into their skin and cleanse them thoroughly. The purpose was to make the skin shine for the wedding day but Nyla always thought that it was just some poor excuse to give them a nice bath. Jon was escorted to his chambers by his men and though the brothers were technically in charge of drawing him a bath and cleansing him properly - Prince Jarians's brothers refused and the job was left to the male servants, Maester Wolkan and Ser Agron.

In Nyla's room, all her sisters and the female servants sat around her tub and bathed her gently whilst taking care of other duties like shearing her nails short, scrubbing her skin, washing her hair with ambrosia and dressing her for the pre-marriage banquet tonight.

"You will look and smell like the finest Dornish bride who has ever lived." said Dorea..

"And your husband will be too infatuated with you to think of another woman," said Elia as she pulled a brush through Nyla's curly hair.

"Of course, you'll have to get used to your husband fucking some North girl but - at least your married." Sarella said with a sour tone and a faux smile.

"How dare you?" Dorea gasped with anger flashing in her eyes. "Do not vex our sister."

"You'd do better to watch your tone. I _am _the eldest daughter of-"

"Obara Sand was the _eldest _daughter of the Great Oberyn Martell." snapped Dorea. "You are fourth in line to her greatness." Swiftly, Dorea and Sarella stood and clutched each other's throats ready to strike each other.

"Stop it!" Nyla then stood and shouted, her nakedness displayed for all the women. "You will not ruin what is supposed to be good and pure."

"Good? Pure?" scoffed Sarella. "You are marrying that pale-faced Northerner who will gladly give you to his men for a taste before he beds you."

Nyla's eyes sparked with fury. "He is to be my husband!"

"He's _still_ a foreigner!"

"He will not hurt me!"

"And how would you know, dear sister?" snapped Sarella. "You think he _loves_ you? That he cares for you? Love is weakness. And it will be your death." She sneered.

"Enough!" shouted Obella. "Leave, Sarella. You disgrace us and our father's legacy." The eldest Sand Snake quickly left Nyla's chambers and slammed the door on her way out. Nyla relaxed herself back into the bath but was still worried that Sarella's words might have some truth to them.

"Do not listen to her, Nyla. She is hateful and always will be that way."

"It is not her fault. The Lannisters murdered our family. She cannot forgive them. None of us can. But Jon is not a Lannister. He is a Stark! He will not hurt me." She pleaded to her sisters, but it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of this.

"We do not know the Starks. We only know pain, violence and death. We are the Sand Snakes. And for years, we all have tried so hard to shield you from the cruelty of this world, but … you are a woman now. You must make decisions for yourself. And it will be you who will know this Jon Snow better than anyone … as his wife."

"And what if I am wrong, sister? What if … what if he is like the Lannisters?"

"Then the North will finally see the true wrath of Dorne. I swear to you." Obella promised fiercely.

* * *

After the bath and pampering was complete, Obella and Elia dressed their young sister is the most beautiful blush pink and gold dress. It had no straps and began from her cleavage and extended all the way down her arms and hips to the floor. There were open slits at the side of her dress that showed off her toned legs - a preview for what was to come for the Northman and she wore a different pair of golden slippers, followed by bangles, and hoop shaped earrings. Her hair was done up in a high ponytail and held together by a golden ribbon. Her makeup was done almost the same way as the previous day except the only difference was her lips were no longer painted crimson red but a nice cherry-plum maroon. The sisters then walked the young bride back to the lounge of the Water Gardens were all the men were standing and waiting for the women to enter.

Jon was in the center and was a little uncomfortable with his Dornish suit. It was the same color and design as Nyla's to represent their upcoming nuptials and was comprised of a silk Dornish robe that covered and outlined his muscular and lean frame and ended all the way at his feet, stopping at the ankles. Underneath was a low cut yellow shirt that revealed his chiseled chest and a large pendant - customary for Dornish men - around his neck. His hair was loosened again and just like Nyla said, Jon looked more Dornish than he did Northman when his hair was down. But to him, it reminded him of how he used to look before he took the Black.

Everyone's attention now centered on the six women approaching and in the center was his bride and she was just as beautiful as the day before. She walked up to him slowly and gracefully and stood in front of him with just a few centimeters in between.

"You look handsome, Jon Snow."

"So do you. Very beautiful." The Dornish Princess blushed and took hold of his hand, pulling him to the lush sofas with everyone else following. The dinner and festivities were different this time. There were more performers, more food, and more sweets. Prince Jarian then explained step-by-step the rituals of the wedding ceremony tomorrow to the Northmen who took in every word that was said. Eventually, Jon and Nyla were able to escape their engagement party and take another stroll through the Water Gardens together hand-in-hand. And though Jon felt more relaxed to be out in the beautiful and cool Dornish weather; Nyla was troubled.

"Jon?"

"Hmm?"

"Can … can I ask you something?"

"Of course. Anything. You know, you don't always have to-"

"Is there someone else?" She asked abruptly.

"What?"

"I mean … are you going to … take another wife or … or even a mistress?" She asked, her voice now faltering.

"A mistress? Why would you-"

"Because if you are … then-then tell me right now! I don't want to leave and-and assume that there won't be anyone but me. If you're going to fuck some Northern girl - fine. But just … I-"

"Hey, hey - look at me," he paused her watching her break down and stumble over her words. She was hyperventilating. It was a slow rate but it was there, making her heart pound faster and harder than a horse running through the open fields.

"What's brought all this on?"

"I …,"she stopped trying to think of the right words to phrase this carefully but suddenly decided that it didn't matter how she phrased it. He had to know.

"I am Nyla. Princess Nyla Sand of House Martell. The ninth bastard daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell and Farsali Dayne of House Dayne." She began. "I know the history of Dorne very well and am not blind to the traditions that have been brought and established to my country for years. Dornish men are free to have as many women and men as they like to feed their sexual appetites. My father is a prime example. But I … I refuse to accept these traditions!" She proclaimed and looked her betrothed in the eyes.

"I refuse to be your foreign whore that you can discard whenever you please while you go fuck some Northern girl or … or let your men ha-have their-"

"Stop." He said firmly. Now he understood her anxiety and fear. Now he could see that this idea … this idea of being tossed aside like waste while Jon enjoyed the freedom of being King of the North and everything that comes with … it frightens the living daylights out of Nyla.

"Look at me, Nyla." said Jon with his same old raspy voice. The Dornish Princess slowly and tearfully looked up and trembled before him. The Northman then snaked his arms around her waist, hoping to give some type of comfort and warmth to her cold body.

"I am not like most men." He stated. "I don't believe in polygamy and having mistresses and I for sure … will not abandon you. Ever."

"How can I trust you?" She whimpered, clutching his robe. "How can I be sure you will stay true to your words?"

"You can't. You won't know if I am trustworthy or not just through my words and even through my actions. But … it's a leap of faith you'll have to take." His rough hand now reached up to tenderly wipe away the fallen tears on her tanned cheeks that seemed to burn her with a pleasurable sting.

"I can only promise you that I will never lie to you and I will never let anyone - even myself - hurt you. It will take time for you to see that, but I'm … I'm willing to wait."

"Kiss me," whispered Nyla. "Kiss me now, … Jon Snow." It almost sounded like a plea than a command but nonetheless, her betrothed leaned down caught her lips in a warm kiss. Her hands that once held the ties of his robes had now snaked around his neck and clung to him as if he was her life support. His hands clutched her waist and locked her in his embrace keeping their bodies close and in contact. Her breasts perked up when she felt his fingers lightly trace circles on her hip bone and she cupped his scratchy cheek with one hand trying to deepen the kiss. Boldly, the Dornish Princess then took one of his hand from her waist and placed it under the shade of her dress and directly on her butt and urged him to squeeze.

"Nyla," he rasped, trying to pull away. He knew that this wasn't her character. Someone - maybe her sisters - had given her 'advice' on how to please a man and she was just following directions but from the way she shuddered and trembled when he touched her there, he knew she wasn't used to this. It was all for him.

"Nyla … don't." He whispered and pulled his hand away.

"Why?"

"Just … just no. Not now." And she accepted this answer with relief and awe.

"I trust you, Jon Snow." She mumbled against his dry lips. "I trust you with my life."

"And I will protect you. Now … and always."

* * *

**Hey guys! I'm pretty much on a role right now and hopefully I'll have another chapter done today. But I hope you enjoyed. I hope this also clarifies who these new Martells are and to answer to question that was left yesterday - yes my dear Nyla is a maiden (virgin). Also I know that the Martells are loosely based on people with Spanish origins, but since there isn't a lot about their customs, food and ways of life in the show and books - I figured I would add some Arab style to their origins to make it that much more interesting.  
**

**Thanks again for the follows! If you want to leave feedback, please feel free :)**

* * *

**Peace & Love**

**xGhostReaderx**


	4. Chapter 3 - Fire & Ice

**3\. Fire & Ice**

* * *

Early the next morning, Jon instructed Maester Wolkan to send a raven to Winterfell, alerting them of today's ceremony and their upcoming return to the North in the next eight days, Gods be good. He knew Sansa wasn't going to take well to the news, but with Maester Crybone there - he could possibly keep her fiery temper at bay. Similar to the rituals they endured last night, Jon and Nyla were subjected to the pampering of fussing of everyone else from sunrise to the middle of the day. From three different baths, to seven different fragrances, a shaving and trimming session for Jon, and a waxing and plucking session for Nyla - they were tired by the end of the preparations.

When the ceremonial treatment was complete, Jon and Nyla got dressed in their wedding attires and boarded two separate carriages that would take them into the city of Sunspear - where all the Dornish civilians would watch from near and far as their princess wed the King in the North under the dome of Spear Tower. Maester Wolkan and Ser Agron rode on horseback behind Jon's carriage as did Prince Jarian and his cousins. The Sand Snakes rode on horseback as well behind Nyla's carriage and the servants walked on foot, cat the sides with large bowls of rose petals. They took handfuls of them and released them into the winds, creating a pathway from the Water Gardens into Sunspear.

Nyla was nervous.

This was her first marriage and hopefully - her last ever. And it was to a Northerner of all the people in the world, but he was different. He was a good man. Noble. Honorable. Kind. All the traits a king should have. And above anything else in her life, she wanted to be a good wife to him. Someone he could fall in love with and say to himself that he was happy with the choice he made today. By now, the sounds of cheers and chants were getting closer and closer causing Nyla's stomach to twist and turn in agony. She clasped her hands together and held them tightly in an attempt to alleviate the burning anxiety and when that failed, she thought of Jon and his kindness. She was not in love with him - yet. But she admired him and respected him as a person and as a king which made her heart swell thinking back to the last two days of sweet kisses, tender moments and gentle hands that held her and comforted her. It was unusual for Nyla to be so forward with a man. No Dornish man here had ever gotten her attention or gotten a reaction from her such as the ones she gave to Jon. She was a quiet girl. Mild-mannered, sweet, generous - nothing compared to her ruthless, violent, and sexually explicit sisters.

The chatter and cheers became louder and prominent to her ears as the carriage entered the city roads with Dornish men and women standing on either side waving, chanting and clapping happily. It relieved her a moment to see that everyone in Dorne was excited for her. Jon's carriage entered the city grounds first as part of Dornish traditions. The groom always entered first and the bride second so that everyone could ogle her dress and beauty. The horses took him and his men trailing behind around the entire city before stopping at the front of Spear Tower. The doors were opened and out from inside came hundreds of white doves as a symbol of purity between the two of them. Jon smirked at the doves for there was nothing pure about him but Nyla … she was a living breathing example of innocence.

His carriage door then opened and the people all around stilled as they waited to see the man who would take their princess away. Descending in a white and gold embroidered Dornish robe with a golden shirt underneath, matching pants and brown boots was Jon Snow - the King in the North. His hair was tied back into a perfect bun to reflect is age and his Northern roots. His eyes squinted at the bright sunshine that blinded him from viewing the majority of the people watching him. It was quiet for a solid moment. No one knew how to react to Jon Snow and his paleness. But a sound clap from Prince Jarian was just the motivation they needed.

"Rejoice! Sing! Cheer! For the groom has arrived!" He bellowed and everyone followed in pursuit with chants and songs. Prince Jarian then walked Jon up the steps and stopped him midway to turn and face the incoming carriage that held his bride. Her carriage door was suddenly opened and the crowds once again went silent and still waiting to see the princess. One foot appeared out and then a hand that clasped onto one of the male servants who assisted in pulling the beautiful woman out from the shadows of her carriage. She was dressed in the same colors as Jon: white and gold. Her dress was a long and white and covered with gold embroidery of flowers and vines extended all over her body. At the top of her dress was a wide cleavage cut and around her next was a wide necklace of beads. Her face was done up perfectly. Clear tan skin polished to perfection, seductive cat eyes, full lashes, pastel pink lips and those same vibrant blue eyes. Gold and white earrings hung from either side of her face and at the top of her head was the start of a thin white and gold veil that flowed all the way down her back and pooled at the ground.

She looked like a beautiful sun goddess and everyone was entranced.

Carefully, Nyla made her way up the steps and tried to not focus too hard on tripping on her dress otherwise it would jinx her horribly and there could be no room for disaster on her wedding day. At the middle of the steps, she locked eyes with her betrothed again who was in complete awe of her extravagant beauty.

"You're an angel." He whispered hoarsely.

The young bride blushed, not knowing what to say. Jon then took hold of Nyla's delicate hand and guided her up the steps followed by a booming applause from the crowds howling and clapping for the ceremony that was soon to be displayed at the top of the Spear Tower. When they reached after careful and precise movements that took more than 10 minutes, a Dornish High Septon was waiting for them with an old smile. Jon let go of his bride's hand and stood opposite to her which gave him a better view of her petite and curvy frame. The High Septon then raised his hands and the crowd hushed. Prince Jarian, Maester Wolkan and Ser Agron had just finished their slow and hot walk up the steps and appeared at the appropriate party's side just as the ceremony began.

"My Lord. My Princess." He greeted. "To the people of Dorne, I welcome you all to this wonderful celebration. The celebration between a woman and man joining hands to become in the lights of the Gods … husband and wife." His attention then turned to Nyla.

"Who takes this woman?" He asked loudly and then Jon stepped forward.

"I do."

"Who gives she?"

Prince Jarian stepped forward and squeezed Nyla's hand before saying, "I do."

"Then let us proceed in the traditional ceremony that has been conducted for centuries!" The High Septon then gestured for both to come forward side by side. A disciple off to the side then came forward and had the two of them clasp their hands together and wrap them in a long white cloth carefully.

"Repeat the words together," said the High Septon.

"_Father. Smith. Warrior… Mother. Maiden. Crone… Stranger. I am hers. And she is mine. From this day. Until the end of my days._

"_Father. Smith. Warrior… Mother. Maiden. Crone… Stranger. I am his. And he is mine. From this day. Until the end of my days._

The High Septon smiled brightly and gestured for them to turn to each other.

"By the light and power of all the Old Gods and New … I pronounce these two: husband … and wife."

Jon then took hold of Nyla's cheek and caressed it gently and pulled her waist to his, bent down and kissed his new wife slowly and carefully. Nyla - now more relieved than ever - placed her hands on his fast-beating chest and returned his kiss. The crowds erupted with joy and happiness along with Prince Jarian, Maester Wolkan and Ser Agron. Even though it was for an alliance, they had to admit. Jon and Nyla were a beautiful couple. The Dornish princess then pulled away and bit her lower lip again watching her husband's eyes to see that he was still content. No traces of regret were in sight and that was all she needed. He squeezed his wife's waist and turned them to face the applauding crowds as man and wife.

* * *

The reception was held in the Tower of Sun - the throne room to the Prince of Dorne - where tables and chairs were set up to serve the noble houses, the prince and his family along with the newlyweds. The food was overwhelming. Everything was spicy and flavorful for the three Northmen present but they had grown accustomed to Dornish food in the past two days so the spice heat was no longer an issue. In the middle of the tables was Prince Jarian and on his right side was his sister and his new brother-in-law dining and watching the belly-dancers entertain the guests. Nyla was barely hungry. The festivities and the soon to come consummation of marriage tonight between her and Jon was nerve-wracking and sent her appetite flying south. The King of the North took subtle notice of this and when the sun had set and the stars had finally come out to grace the night sky, Jon bid his good night and lead Nyla out the room to their carriage.

"Are you tired?" He asked

"Overwhelmingly so." Nyla responded. Like a gentleman, Jon opened the carriage for Nyla to step inside and followed right after. The horses then turned around and trotted back in the direction of the Water Gardens.

"We're married now." said Nyla

"Yes."

"And …"

"And?"

"Nothing." She said and leaned her against Jon's shoulder. When the carriage stopped at the front, Jon and Nyla reluctantly got out and walked through the huge maze fields to the open steps. Nobody except a few servants and the guards were here. They all welcomed the young couple back and congratulated them on their marriage. At the front of Jon's door, he looked to Nyla to see if she was okay with sleeping in his room but the Dornish Princess pulled him along down the hallway to her quarters which were much larger and wider in size. Jon closed the door behind him and locked it just so that no one would barge in uninvited. Now that Nyla was his wife, he was going to make sure no one would intrude on anything private and/or intimate the happens between them.

"Shall I draw you a bath?" He rasped. Nyla nodded shyly and sat on her bed, trying to unhook and peel the jewels that were now clinging to her sweaty and tired body. It was then that Jon realized how wide the metal basin was for Nyla and a sudden thought occurred to him of how to utilize this extra space but he knew Nyla would never agree. And he didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

"Will you bathe with me?" She suddenly asked.

'_You know nothing, Jon Snow', _Ygritte's words replayed in head. He smirked to himself and gave her a sharp nod before he poured the last bowl of water into the basin. Nyla had just stripped off her veil and was about to peel off her wedding dress when Jon walked up to her, his eyes glued to her slow movements.

"The bath is ready," he said, gingerly letting his knuckles brush against her velvet skin and Nyla shivered involuntarily. She looked into her husband's solemn grey eyes and to her shock, they were not full of lust. Only genuine concern. He then walked to the side of the bed and began to undress and she watched him for a moment, seeing how smoothly he removed each fabric of clothing that stood in her way to absolute nakedness. When he pulled his shirt over his head, Nyla gasped.

His chest … was scarred. Visibly scarred with what looked to be … stab wounds.

Jon turned to her, his past wounds in full display and held their eye contact for a second more before Nyla - bashfully - hurried over to the basin and discarded her dress before stepping inside. The water was a little hot but not sizzling and the wonderful heat she received relaxed her aching muscles and made her want to delve deeper into the depths of her basin. A figure loomed over her but she didn't need to guess who as he entered the basin as well sighing deeply at the steamy water. She wiggled forward to give Jon some space to extend his longer legs, but the King of the North did not want her away from him and pulled her into the open space between his legs and let her recline her body against her chest.

It was … different. Something Nyla had never experienced before but she couldn't say she didn't enjoy the relaxation she got from both the soaking and Jon's body heat. A small sensation appeared on Nyla's thigh and when she looked down, she smiled seeing that it was her husband's hand rubbing small circles there. Jon took in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled just as his wife turned her body halfway to look into his eyes again. Then, she wrapped an arm around his neck and brought his lips onto hers. Everytime Nyla kissed Jon it seemed as if it was only getting better and better each day. For her, the kisses were not out of lust and desire - they were her comfort. And now as they sat in the basin naked together as husband and wife, the comfort she had knowing that Jon would not take advantage of her like so many other men wanted was refreshing and made her heart beat a little faster. The comfort in knowing her husband would protect her from anything made her want to always lavish him with kisses and signs of affection because she believed he deserved them. And even though he had yet to tell her of his past wounds - emotional and physical - she could see that this was probably the first time in a while that Jon would attempt to open his heart even the tiniest bit to a stranger like her.

Jon cupped her cheek and tenderly rubbed it with his thumb, deepening the kiss further and their lips melded and folded with each other continuously and repetitively. Her hand wove its way into his curly locks and tugged a little on them which sparked a sudden wave of emotions through his chest. His wife turned her whole body now, trying something that was new to her and straddled her husbands legs. The new position gave Nyla more leverage and confidence to kiss him without fear of Jon forcing himself into her but it did spark that hidden desire he had for his beautiful Dornish wife, but Jon had it under control.

He would never let his urges dictate his actions.

"Jon," his wife whispered against his lips, needing to hear his name on her lips. The King of the North pulled her tighter against him, crushing her small and supple breasts against his chest and letting his hands trail up and down her smooth back. She grabbed his hand and directed it to her butt once more, hoping he would like what he felt and to her relief his hand stayed there, squeezing and massaging her plump buttocks while maintaining his motions on her back.

"Jon," she moaned into his mouth. And that alone made him stop his movements and pull away from her. The Dornish Princess gasped as she felt him remove her off his lap and exit the basin, slipping back on his trousers. Everything up until then had been wonderful. The bath, the moment, the … intimacy. And now … Nyla felt foolish. She covered her chest and held herself, turning her eyes away from her husband who clearly did not want her. Maybe she was too ugly for him? Or maybe it was because she was not a Northern girl. Either way, it was clear to her now that this was just an alliance. Nothing more nothing less. He was not going to fall in love with her. And those promises of protection were just part of the deal because if she dies on his watch, Jarian would surely try to attack the North. And here she was really believing that Jon ... actually liked her. Really liked her. But it was just business and even though he never said it, she knew she was just a business transaction to him.

Sarella was right. She was a fool.

Jon extended a hand out to his wife who took it but still refused to meet his eyes the entire time. She kept her hand over her chest and skidded to her side of the bed where her chest of clothing lay. She pulled out a long silk robe and wrapped it around herself tightly and slipped underneath the warm furs on her bed. Jon extinguished the fire as she got comfortable on her side of the bed just as Jon joined her. Her back was to him for she could not look her new husband in the eyes. Then, she felt his hands take hold of her arms and told herself: this is it.

He was going to rape her for as long as he liked and spill his seed in her just to show that they consummated and go straight to sleep. Oh, why were the Gods so cruel to her? What had she done to anger them? She clenched her eyes shut and awaited her deflowering but Jon only pulled her body against his bare chest and kept her that way all night. At some point, Nyla wanted to scream and yell at him to let her go if he wasn't going to ruin her, but the warmth and comfort of his body was too tempting to resist and in the end she fell asleep soundly with the sound of their heart beats in perfect sync.

* * *

The next morning was a hard one for Nyla.

She spent most of the morning saying thousands of goodbyes to Jarian, her two cousins, her sisters, all the servants and guards who have watched her grow up in the Dorne. Jon felt bad seeing Nyla so saddened by this move. It was never an easy thing to say goodbye to a place you've known your whole life. Jon never felt this way, however. When he left to take the Black, he was more than happy to leave his life and more importantly - Catelyn Stark - behind in Winterfell. The only people he knew he would miss more than anything was Arya, Bran, Robb and his father/uncle Ned. And unlike Dorne where bastards are respected and cherished, the North was not so kind.

After one last hug to her brother, Jon and Nyla mounted their horses with Maester Wolkan and Ser Agron and rode to Planky Town - the only port in Dorne where Jarian's ship awaited them. The travelling would take approximately the same amount of time it took to get to Dorne. Eight days. And each day was the same for Nyla. Wake up, eat a small breakfast, look at the water, go back inside and read one of her novels that she swore needed to come with her or she wouldn't go to Winterfell, supper and then back to bed with her stiff and stoic husband who still had yet to bed her. Jarian didn't even ask if the marriage was consummated because he just assumed that Nyla would give up her maidenhood like a good girl. And although she would have had he asked, she was not ready. She didn't think she would ever be ready for Jon to bed her.

When the ship docked at White Harbor on the seventh day, one of Jon's men met them at the port with five horses ready to make the trip to Winterfell. After putting Nyla on her horse, Jon mounted Blaze and set off to his home. Nyla's horse - a beautiful white stallion she named Sylla - trotted alongside Blaze and Jon while Nyla took in everything cold and bitter about the North. She was happy that Dorea had given her a cloak for her stay in Winterfell. Loreza gave her a small chest and told Nyla not to open it until her wedding day in the North which made Nyla that much more curious to what it could be. After countless hours went by, Nyla looked up ahead and sighed in relief seeing a huge castle in the middle of a huge piece of land.

"Home," Jon sighed. "Welcome to Winterfell."

* * *

**Peace & Love**

**xGhostReaderx**


	5. Chapter 4 - The Queen of the North

**4\. The Queen of the North**

* * *

**WINTERFELL**

'_This … is Winterfell?_' The Dornish Princess thought.

The castle's exterior alone looked more depressing than majestic. Nyla turned to look at Jon again who seemed so content and relieved to be back, but how could he be relieved? She understood that this was his home but … this place was cold beyond belief! There was no way she was ever going to be able to love this place more than Dorne, but she would try.

The five of them rode to the gates that opened right on cue and revealed all of Winterfell standing and waiting for their king and … his foreign queen. The eyes of everyone in this enclosed settlement was smothering. Everyone looked at Nyla with narrowed eyes, grim faces and disgusted stares. Sansa stood at the front of the welcoming crowd waiting for Jon to dismount and embrace her. Maester Crybone stood alongside her with a firm smile and eyed Jon's wife curiously. When he dismounted from Blaze, Jon immediately went to Nyla's side and lifted her down from Sylla - another gentlemanly trait of his. He then strode over to where Sansa stood and embraced his sister as tight as he could.

Nyla watched their reunion with a small smile but then for a split second, she felt weak and lightheaded. Something had taken over her senses and caused Nyla to almost fall head first onto the ground but thanks to Ser Agron quick reflexes, he caught her just in time and held her freezing body upright.

"My Lord!" Ser Agron yelled urgently. Jon And Sansa turned and the King of the North quickly ran to his wife's aid seeing her pale face and trembling body.

"She's frozen, my Lord," said Ser Agron. "Must be the shock from the cold."

"And she hasn't eaten much in days." Jon murmured and beckoned for Maesters Crybone And Wolkan.

"Take her to my chambers. Have one of the girls prepare food and a warm bath for her, quickly."

"Yes my Lord," all three men said and hurried away with the Dornish Princess.

"So that's your wife?" Sansa asked with disdain. Jon turned to face her once again. "Yes. That is my wife."

"She seems weak."

"She's from Dorne, Sansa. One of the hottest nations in Westeros. She's not used to the cold."

"I see … and how long will she be staying?"

"What did you think this was? A brief contract?" Jon asked incredulously. "Nyla _is_ my wife now."

"_She_ is part of an agreement. And I'm sure she knows this as well. So let her know that she can leave whenever she gets tired of living up here."

"She's not leaving, Sansa."

The redhead scoffed. "You know that's not up to you, right Jon?"

"I am her husband. And I have a say in her decisions."

"She is not from the North, Jon." Sansa snapped. "She won't appreciate you making decisions for her. She's Dornish and you know how free Dornish girls are. Honestly Jon, did you actually think she-"

"Her _name _is Nyla." Jon said firmly. "And you will address her as the Queen of the North now." Sansa's eyes burned with defiance at his words and before she could say something nasty to her brother, she stormed out of the courtyard and inside the castle.

* * *

Nyla awoke the next morning feeling extremely exhausted but definitely much warmer and healthier than she had yesterday afternoon. Jon was nowhere in sight but she knew he was here last night because his scent was still on the pillows and his cloak was here too. A scratching and whining sound was heard at the door and Nyla curiously got up and pressed her ear to the door and jumped a little her a small growl followed by another whine. When she opened the door, a fully grown white wolf with blood red eyes entered and stared her down. At first she was frightened. This was a full grown wild animal that could literally rip her apart limb from limb. And it was loose in the castle which was even worse! But the wolf only gazed at her and leaned up on its hind legs to try and lick her face. Nyla giggled and held the white wolf upright, panting excitedly just as Jon walked through the door.

"Ghost, get down." He said and the wolf obeyed, pushing its nose under Jon's hand and letting him scratch him behind the ears. When the wolf was content, he left the two of them alone and Nyla tried to find something to look at other than her husband.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Good. You need to eat. Breakfast is being served down in the King's Hall."

"Okay." She mumbled and clutched her arms. The Northman walked over to where she stood and gently touched his wife's face to which she shuddered and pulled back from.

"What is it?"

"Nothing … I … umm …," she fumbled for a moment and then sighed. "When is the ceremony today?"

"Sunset. You'll have plenty of time to get all pampered and acquainted with the castle before our second wedding." Nyla nodded but still didn't make eye contact with Jon. And though he wanted to ask her why she looked so sad and hurt, he would save that conversation for tonight when they were alone. For now, the King of the North planted a kiss on his wife's forehead and took his leave.

A young and new servant girl named Pema came to Jon and Nyla's room soon after he left and helped the Dornish Princess prepare for the day. She drew her bath, washed her hair and fixed their bed before putting Nyla in her new Northern girl clothes. No longer would she ever wear her beautiful exotic Dornish clothes - except for her nightgowns should she ever need them. Now she would wear thick long gowns and fur cloaks all day long but it might not be so bad. Maybe she would end up enjoying the Northern style but Nyla had a hard time believing that.

After getting dressed in a thick long blue dress with a deep but narrow cleavage slit and a brass medallion - as part of Northern girl style - Pema lead Nyla down the King's Hall for her breakfast. Many of the Northern men were still there eating and chatting amongst themselves and when the new Queen of the North entered, everyone quieted down and just … stared. It was even more suffocating than the reactions to her arrival yesterday. Slowly, Nyla walked down the short distance of the isle with eyes from sides of the hall watching her carefully - some with anger, some with distrust, some with doubt and some with … lust.

Typically when a noble, king or queen entered this hall - everyone was supposed to stand and greet him or her. Unfortunately for Nyla, no one stood up and just muttered certain words like _'Dornish whore' _and '_bitch_' under their breaths. She swallowed thickly and hurried to the front where Sansa Stark and Maester Crybone sat finishing up their meals. Sansa eyed her new sister-in-law carefully as she broke off a piece of bread and drank her milk.

A servant then came out of the kitchen and delivered a plate right in front of Nyla. Her nose wrinkled in disgust seeing cooked bacon and its juices seeping into her now soggy eggs.

"Damn," she whispered and pushed the plate aside meanwhile her stomach growled in agony for some type of food.

"You don't like eggs?" asked Sansa

"I do … but … there's bacon."

"Are you allergic?"

"No … I … I don't eat swine."

"Why?"

"I just … don't." Nyla said quietly.

"Well here," Sansa said and pushed her almost finished plate of bread over to Nyla. "You can finish that if you want. I'm afraid the cooks are done for the day until lunch or supper so you'll have to make due until then." said the Lady of Winterfell who then abruptly left the dining hall. Maester Crybone watched the new Queen push Sansa's plate aside and just sit there quietly. He felt sorry for the girl. No doubt she was starving and Sansa's subtle cruelty was helping her adjust to being in a brand new country with a foreign husband any better. Plus, no one here seemed to acknowledge her existence or the fact that she indeed was the Queen.

"My Lady," He said softly. "Allow me to fetch you some breakfast."

"No no! It's … quite alright, sir. I'm not that hungry anyway." She tried smiling but it was futile and the new healer of Winterfell watched as the Queen walked out of the dining hall with an empty belly and disgusted stares.

Ghost came up to Nyla after she left the dining hall and followed her around for most of the day. Jon was nowhere to be seen - probably busy dealing with running a kingdom and things like that - and even though Nyla still was still upset with Jon's refusal of her; she missed him. His scent. His curly thick black locks. His raspy Northern accent. His regal demeanor. Everything that made him perfect and at that point, she decided that she wanted to try again. Try and see if Jon thought of her as anything else other than duty but she didn't want to make a fool out of herself like last time. She was so sure that Jon cared for her and liked her after all their kisses and gentle touches but after his refusal of her, she felt that it was just a duty for him to care for her. She was just part of a package deal that came with the bigger picture. And Jon just had to keep this foreign wife safe and happy to keep Dorne on their side.

"Leap of faith, my ass." She muttered walking with Ghost to the Godswood tree in the farther back portion of the huge castle. Ghost sat down in front of the old tree and Nyla sat alongside him. Her belly grumbled with pain again at its emptiness and Ghost whined slightly before putting his head on her lap.

"I know, Ghost." She said softly. "But I'll be okay. I really don't want to do anything that could make my being here in Winterfell worse for everyone else." She said and rubbed Ghost behind the ears.

"At least you like me." She grinned at the white wolf.

"I like you too," an unfamiliar voice said. Ghost immediately stood up and started growling at the approaching man who held his hands up in defeat to show his harmlessness.

"I'm not here to say or do any harm. I swear." He said truthfully and smiled. Nyla was still wary of him.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Darius. Darius Gammon. One of the new knights of Winterfell. I hear you are the new Queen?"

"Yes." The Dornish beauty said standing up. "Yes I am Princess Nyla Sand of-" she paused for a second. Her title was different now in Winterfell. She was no longer supposed to use her maiden name to define her but now her husband's.

"I mean … I am Lady Nyla Snow. Queen of the North."

"A pleasure to finally meet you," Ser Gammon said. He then unsheathed his sword and plunged it down into the dirt while bending his knee. "My Queen."

"Thank you, Ser Gammon. You can rise now." She said. The young handsome knight tucked his sword away and approached the young Queen but Ghost stood between them still baring his teeth in a show of distrust.

"Looks like the direwolf isn't fond of me."

"It would appear so."

"But what does my Queen think? Can I be trusted?"

"I … don't know. I guess you'll just have to prove yourself." She said timidly.

"Indeed I will, Your Majesty." He smiled and then looked at the beautiful Dornish girl carefully.

"Tell me, how are you enjoying the North and its bitterness?"

"I'm … adjusting."

"Not very good, I assume?"

"It's just different." said Nyla simply. "Dorne is hot. It's Southern. It's colorful and has so much flare and charisma. And the North is … well-"

"Cold. Hauntingly cold. Wet. Ice . Snow. Sound accurate?" Nyla didn't respond.

"So … is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable here in Winterfell?" Again, Nyla did not respond and Ghost growled louder when Ser Gammon took another step towards his Queen.

"My Lady?" Ser Agron said walking to their position. Relief washed over Nyla who immediately went to Ser Agron feeling much safer and less cornered.

"The sun is beginning to fall. You had better get ready for the ceremony," He advised.

"Thank you, Ser Agron." She smiled and turned slightly to see this new and mysterious knight watching her every move.

"Ser Gammon." She nodded and quickly left the Godswood with Ghost trailing behind her. Ser Agron faced the new knight and narrowed his eyes. Something was a little off about him but he could not pinpoint what it was exactly.

"What were you doing here with the Queen?"

"I was merely interested in introducing myself to her. The Northerners already don't approve of her so I offered my sword and shield to My Lady's side."

"Yes, well let's keep it at offering your sword and shield, shall we?"

"What are you insinuating, Ser Agron?" said the new knight with a pointed look.

"Oh don't act daft. She is a beautiful woman. The men here may not like her, but they desire her. And I am here to make sure _no one_ harms her."

"I would never do anything to endanger my Queen."

"Let's hope so for your sake." said Ser Agron before leaving without another word.

* * *

A few hours later, the sun began to cast a beautiful pink and orange glow across the North signaling that the hour was near and that the second marriage ceremony between Jon and Nyla was soon to commence. Everyone in Winterfell hurriedly finished their remaining chores and duties for the day before returning to their cabins, throwing their cloaks on and proceeding into the Godswood to watch. A Northern wedding was very simple and for the last couple of years there had not been one since the marriage between Sansa and Ramsay Bolton. But even that wedding was hardly enjoyable and although this wedding was not intended to be a perfect one either; the Northerners were at least happy that their king would marry under the light of their Gods this time and not those Dornish ones.

Jon easily got ready. There was nothing to prepare for his second wedding as Northern traditions in terms of marriage were pretty simplistic and straight-forward.. His face was still clean and trimmed from his first wedding so there was no need for a second. And in the North there was no customary marriage suit for the groom. Only his suit, armor and cloak. The women were the ones who could be a little more creative with their wedding attires but sadly most Northern women just resorted to wearing their plain cloaks, a small tiara on top and maybe a small amount of makeup. For Nyla - due to her Dornish heritage - she wanted to bring a bit of both to her second wedding.

To reflect her Dornish roots, Nyla used her last bottle of rose water she brought along and used her Dornish makeup for her face. Though Dornish makeup usually involved bright colors such as oranges, pinks, reds, and purples : Nyla was able to create a subtle wintery look without making herself look rather pale. After that, she went to her dress and called two servant girls to assist her in putting on her wedding dress. It was … very Northen to say the least. Heavy furs and a dull white that almost looked grey. It was horrifying. Then, she remembered that her older sister Loreza had gifted her with something to wear on her second wedding day and Nyla trotted over to her small chest to uncover the secret surprise that lie within and to her amazement - it was gorgeous.

When the time arrived for the ceremony to begin, a horn was blown from the tall tower of Winterfell that summoned every man, woman and child to the Godswood. Everyone waited patiently as the servants handed lit torches to every Northman and woman in sight. Together, everyone lit a trail that extended from the entrance to the Godswood tree. Sansa and Maester Wolkan walked down the snow-covered pathway first with their torches and stood at the end of the line waiting for both bride and groom to arrive. Maester Crybone stood at the base of the tree acting as a High Septon for the ceremony due to having no church here in Winterfell.

Jon appeared at the entrance of the trail and slowly walked down with Ser Agron, Ser Gammon, and two other knights following behind as his groomsmen. Everyone nodded and bowed to their king throughout his walk and then turned their attention to the entrance one last time to watch the bride's entrance. At the front of the entrance was the bride and as she walked down, it was a moment to see and behold. Her maidens walked behind singing and humming a small hymn as Nyla walked gracefully through her lighted trail to meet her husband for a second time. Everyone was in awe of the new Queen who wore a pure white dress that was hardly seen and covered by a long white fur cloak with a hood covering her features. To everyone she looked like an angel that had descended from the heavens to bless the North with her innocence and beauty. No one in that moment could find something negative and cruel to say about her. Her tan skin contrasted beautifully with the white fur and made her look like a sun goddess in winter. And once again, Jon could not believe how precious and beautiful his wife truly was.

When she stopped at the tree, she lifted her eyes to meet her husband and he was astounded to see her ocean blue eyes, bronze skin hiding under the darkness of her cloak. The King of the North then approached her and pushed back her hood, revealing that her jet black hair was braided with small white rose petals embedded within. And even though it was such a small detail, the fact that Nyla had taken the time to braid her hair in Northern girl fashion was honorable. Together, they looked like light and darkness. Yin and yang. Two opposing sides now uniting as one.

"We stand here today. In the eyes of the Old Gods and the New … to bear witness to the joining of two houses and two individuals." said Maester Crybone and then gestured to his left.

"Jon Snow of House Stark. And Nyla Sand of House Martell. Who takes this woman?"

"I do," Jon said.

"Who gives this woman?"

"I do," said Maester Wolkan acting in the place of Prince Jarian. Maester Crybone made a small gesture and stepping forward was Ghost carrying the long cloth between his teeth. Nyla chuckled and Jon smirked seeing that direwolf was somehow made a part of this ceremony. Maester Crybone took the cloth and had Jon and Nyla join hands like last time as he wrapped it around their locked fingers.

"Repeat the words."

"_Father. Smith. Warrior… Mother. Maiden. Crone… Stranger. I am hers. And she is mine. From this day. Until the end of my days."_

"_Father. Smith. Warrior… Mother. Maiden. Crone… Stranger. I am his. And he is mine. From this day. Until the end of my days."_

"By the light and power of all the Old Gods and New … I pronounce you both: man and wife." Once again, Jon turned to face his wife and squeezed her hand under the wrap, stroked her cheek and brought her lips forward in a kiss. Nyla melded her lips carefully against his same old dry ones and used her other hand to cling to his armored suit. Sansa looked away at this point. Not wanting to see this kiss because it only reminded her of the horrors she experienced on her wedding day. A small part of her was a little envious of their union. Jon had been in love two times and now was possibly in love again, and she had yet to experience an actual true love, but she chastised herself soon after thinking this way.

'_The North is my true love. And it's the only place I will ever love', _the Lady of Winterfell thought just as Jon and Nyla pulled away to look at their crowd.

"The King in the North!" someone shouted followed by another and many more until it was a united chant of praise for Jon Snow.

"The Queen in the North!" Jon then said and bent down on his knee, unsheathed his sword and stabbed it into the ground and bowed his head. "My Queen."

Nyla stood there, surprised and unable to think of anything else but Jon's demonstration of absolute fealty to her. She looked to the crowds of people who stare at their king and knew that they would never bow, but she was wrong. Not wanting to disrespect their king publicly regardless of their personal feelings, everyone got down on one knee - even Sansa begrudgingly - and chanted, "The Queen in the North!" several times.

* * *

**Peace & Love**

**xGhostReaderx**


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